


Late Work

by Swump (Zelan)



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Gen, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 04:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12449319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelan/pseuds/Swump
Summary: Danny isn't sure he'll be able to make it through detention with Mr. Lancer. Luckily, though, it turns out he won't have to.





	Late Work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taylor_tut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/gifts).



Danny slumps against his locker, pressing his forehead into the cool metal. He’s exhausted after two sleepless nights spent ghost hunting. There had been a lot more of them out causing trouble recently. He’s sure that he and his friends will have to start investigating what was causing the sudden spike, but even the thought of bringing it up makes him want to curl up in a ball; investigations were always lengthy and draining.

“Hey, Fen-toad!” Danny sighs through his nose upon hearing Dash’s characteristic greeting, if it could be called that. He turns to face Dash, who grins at him, his cronies fanned out behind him.

“Get it over with, then,” he mutters, opening his locker and gesturing towards it halfheartedly. Dash’s wicked smile falters a bit; ever since getting his powers, Danny had always put up a lot more of a fight. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d submitted to Dash’s bullying like this.

Dash hefts his slender frame into the air easily. He unceremoniously deposits Danny into the locker, giving him a second to tuck his limbs inside before slamming the door. It might have been Danny’s imagination, but as the group walks away to pick on more social outcasts it occurs to him that Dash usually roughed him up a bit more than that before moving on.

He decides not to dwell on it. Instead, he marvels at the fact that he’s actually not too upset to be stuck in his locker. The chattering of the other students is muffled, and he’s able to sit back and rest without getting weird looks.

It’s a testament to how much things have changed when Tucker doesn’t immediately open Danny’s locker to check whether he’s inside. Danny has to knock on the inside of the door to get Tuck’s attention. His friend starts and turns around to scan the lockers behind him, meeting Danny’s eye through the thin slats and instantly moving to unlock the combination.

The door is unlocked in seconds - it hasn’t been that long since this was an everyday occurrence - and Danny sluggishly uncurls himself before sliding out of his locker. Tucker doesn’t wait for him to have both feet on the ground, babbling on about something that he’s programmed on his PDA. Danny looks over Tucker’s shoulder, nodding and humming noncommittally as Tuck explains the features.

He doesn’t get a reprieve from the onslaught of technical jargon until Sam finally shows up. She wastes no time in getting down to business. “Okay, so obviously something’s been going on for so many ghosts to show up. And the same ones every night. I swear, if I have to deal with the Box Ghost telling me to ‘beware’ one more time I’m going to throw him into the nearest ball pit.”

Tucker jumps in. “We’ve seen the most activity around Axion Labs, but there’s also been some spike in activity around the Nasty Burger. I vote that we check things out over there first,” he adds with a huge grin.

“Wherever you guys think we should start,” Danny says wearily. Sam gives him a look, and he gets the feeling that she’s about to call him out. He straightens his posture. “Nasty Burger is as good a place as any,” he continues, a little more assertively. “We can head over there after school.”

The warning bell cuts their conversation short and the three speedwalk towards their classes without so much as a “see ya.” Unfortunately for Danny, his class is farther than either one of theirs, and his pace quickly starts to flag. It’s another minute after the late bell before he finally manages to drag his feet through the door.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Mr. Fenton,” Mr. Lancer deadpans as Danny slouches into his seat. “I do hope that you had time in your busy schedule to complete the homework I assigned as well.”

“You have an awful lot of time in your schedule to pick on your students instead of teaching them,” Danny sasses back, eyes fixed on his desk. The shocked silence that follows makes him realize that he had probably said that louder than intended. A peek at Mr. Lancer confirms this.

Mr. Lancer looks taken aback, but he quickly recovers his authority. “That will earn you a detention, Mr. Fenton. My room after school - and I had better see you catching up on your late work while you’re here.”

Danny bites his tongue to stop himself from protesting. Mr. Lancer’s glare is angry enough already; arguing won’t get him anywhere. He may as well suck it up and do the detention. It’ll be an excuse to put off ghost hunting for a while at least, and Lancer is right - it gives him a chance to catch up on his missed work.

Or so he thinks. As the class drags on he feels steadily worse and worse, which he hadn’t thought physically possible. The throbbing ache that starts at the base of his skull and spreads to his shoulders and back is only compounded by having to slog through the literary devices of a book he hasn’t read.

By the end of the period Danny wants nothing more than to pass out and sleep for five days. He’s made up his mind that he won’t be going to detention or the Nasty Burger this afternoon; even he’s self-aware enough to know that he’ll only be a target in this condition.

As everyone else pushes to leave the room, Danny approaches Mr. Lancer’s desk. The teacher looks up at him, marking his place in his book. “What do you need, Mr. Fenton?” Danny picks up on the tightness in his voice. The guy’s probably still pissed at the remark he’d made earlier. Still, Mr. Lancer’s expression is neutral and open. It’s something that Danny has come to appreciate; unlike a lot of other teachers he’s had, Mr. Lancer gives a lot of second chances. More than Danny would have given in his position, probably.

“Mr. Lancer,” Danny begins sheepishly, “I’m really sorry about what I said earlier. I wasn’t thinking and - and I just really don’t feel well. Could I please do my detention another day? I don’t feel up to staying after today.”

Mr. Lancer’s eyes harden before he’s even finished speaking. “That’s no excuse for being rude, Mr. Fenton. Half the school is fighting off colds right now, but you don’t see anyone else talking back, or at least I would hope you don’t. And doing something that you’d rather not is the entire point of a punishment, in case you’d forgotten.”

Danny’s face falls. “So it’s not possible to reschedule - “

“You can either do it today or all next week. Do I make myself clear?” It’s clear that Mr. Lancer is deadly serious. As much as Danny desperately wants to accept that trade-off, he knows that he can’t. There will definitely be ghosts to deal with next week. If he’s stuck sitting in detention, they’ll be free to wreak havoc or else they’ll come and threaten the school, neither of which is something he wants to deal with.

“Got it, sir,” he mumbles. He’s turning to go when the bell for second period rings, and he groans to himself. “Great.”

To his surprise, Mr. Lancer slides a hall pass over his desk. “Hurry along,” he says, already looking back down at his book.

“Thanks.” Gratitude spurs him to get there as fast as he can, but he knows that he’s in for an agonizing rest of the day.

\-----

Mr. Lancer frowns to himself, lost in thought about the events of first period. Danny Fenton’s accusation had some truth to it. He did tend to call out students publicly, and he knew that it went a little bit far sometimes. But he’d never considered the fact that it might be having a negative impact on his ability to teach.

He was tempted to brush it off as a harsh remark made in a heated moment, and Danny’s apology afterwards had seemed genuine. Still, comments like that didn’t come from out of nowhere.

It was possible that Danny had lashed out because he was so frequently the subject of Mr. Lancer’s call-outs. It was something that Mr. Lancer couldn’t quite figure out. His previous teachers had described him as a decent student - not great, perhaps, but well-behaved and with a strong work ethic. At the beginning of the year, Mr. Lancer would have agreed with that assessment.

But early on, Danny seemed to slip. Ever since the incident with the meat in the teachers’ lounge, he had started to build up more of a permanent record. He was often tardy to class, and grading Danny’s homework felt like a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence akin to watching a solar eclipse.

Mr. Lancer had been teaching for long enough to know that there was a reason behind the change, but he couldn’t exactly go digging into a student’s private life, even with the intent to help. Besides, he felt that whatever it was couldn’t be so terrible. Danny always seemed at ease hanging out with Tucker Foley and Sam Manson. Mr. Lancer had always seen kids in bad situations withdraw completely. If there was a problem, Danny’s friends were probably more equipped to handle it than Mr. Lancer was.

He reaches this conclusion just as Danny walks in, dropping into the chair nearest the door.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Fenton,” he greets the student. “You have your book with you, I hope?”

Danny only nods in response, pulling it out of his backpack and resting his chin in his hand as he starts reading - from the very first page, Mr. Lancer notes in resigned disappointment.

The room is utterly silent for a while. Too silent, Mr. Lancer realizes. The sound of pages turning ceased several minutes ago. He scowls when he realizes that Danny’s eyes are closed and his heads droops forward slightly.

“Mr. Fenton,” he barks, “I know for a fact that you are not reading with your eyes closed.” Danny doesn’t stir. This concerns Mr. Lancer. As careless as Danny has been for the rules, he tends to become compliant as soon as the faculty becomes involved. Blatant ignorance isn’t like him at all.

Mr. Lancer moves to nudge him. “Mr. Fenton,” he begins, placing a hand on Danny’s shoulder. His eyes widen when he does do. “Fever 1776!” he exclaims, louder than he’d intended to. Danny’s eyes fly open and he jerks into a sitting position, scrambling to get his bearings and shooting Mr. Lancer a nervous look.

Mr. Lancer sits in the chair opposite Danny and places a hand over the open book to prevent him from trying to read it. “Danny,” he says gently, “you’re in no condition to do anything but rest at the moment.”

Danny blinks at him uncertainly. “But earlier you said-”

“I know, and I apologize. I didn’t realize at the time how sick you were. As it stands, I will not compel you to remain here for detention.” Relief is plain on Danny’s flushed face. “Do you have a ride home?”

His movements are shaky as he packs up his backpack. “I can call my parents from the office.”

Mr. Lancer nods. “And Danny? I don’t expect to see you back in school until you’ve recovered. Don’t stress about completing your work, either. You can come back and talk to me about extensions.” The last thing he wanted was to send Danny home only for him to slave over a week of missed work. His health should come first.

Danny shoots him a surprised glance. “Thanks, Mr. Lancer. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’ll walk you to the office.” Danny seems steady enough on his feet, but Mr. Lancer hovers behind him just in case. A fever like that could easily spike and send him sprawling in the hallway.

The secretary looks up as Danny enters. She immediately takes in his appearance - pale and a little out of it - and reaches for the phone. “You need me to call your parents, hon?” Danny nods and lowers himself into a chair, hugging his backpack to his chest.

Mr. Lancer lays a hand on his shoulder. “Will you be all right from here?” Danny turns to look at him, and pity claws at Mr. Lancer when he notices the purple circles under his eyes - has he even been sleeping?

“Yeah. Thanks.” Despite the short answer, Danny’s tired smile gives Mr. Lancer the feeling that he was able to help. He hopes that, once Danny is back in school, he’ll be more comfortable approaching Mr. Lancer for help in the future. That’s all he wants to do, really.


End file.
